


Sibling Rivalry

by Oreana



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-03
Updated: 2016-11-03
Packaged: 2018-08-28 21:03:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8462863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oreana/pseuds/Oreana
Summary: A collaboration with the lovely babelast (on tumblr/DA)~! I will be writing the story, and she will choose what she wants to do an art piece of. ♥ Much love for you and offering your talent, dearest. Because of this, there is no romance in this story--just a bit of a backstory with Emmett/ Jack/ Jacob in an alternate timeline~





	

**Author's Note:**

> Ages for this:  
> Emmett: 20  
> Jacob: 41  
> Jack: 28

“Oi, wake up, Emmett,” called Jacob’s voice to his sleeping son, his hand grabbing upon his shoulder to rouse his son awake. 

Emmett’s brow wrinkled with a muffled hum at his father’s attempt to rouse him. He was lying outstretched on the loveseat in Jacob’s home as he was a bit tired from the morning adventures about London as Emmett had been chasing a Templar target for weeks now with little luck in assassinating him. “Mm?” he hummed, Emmett’s eyes hardly even opened yet as his hands remained clasped upon his chest and his legs slightly crossed in a relaxed pose still. 

Jacob shook his son a bit more eagerly. “Come on, are you honestly that knackered or are you just pouting like a child about earlier today?” When Emmett didn’t move, Jacob grabbed the old top hat he once wore in his younger years that he had passed to his son and lightly tapped Emmett’s cheek with it. “I am in my forties, and I can still find the energy to move after our mission—get up, boy!” 

He could tell his father was lightly teasing him, so Emmett didn’t take any of it to heart. Upon feeling the hat meet with his face, the younger Assassin took it from its resting place and opened his eyes lazily to the scene of his father hovering over him intently so. 

“Good to know you’re not dead,” Jacob teased again, grabbing at Emmett’s foot to move it off of the loveseat to urge the other to follow. “Come on, son—there are other things that you can do beyond moping in this house all evening.” 

“I wasn’t moping, I’ll have you know,” insisted Emmett, sitting upright then after fixing the top hat into place. Digging into the lining of his trench coat pocket, he pulled out his pocket watch to check the time, letting it rest back into place shortly after. “I was merely reenergizing myself.” 

Jacob still couldn’t help but roll his eyes all the same and motion to the door, which would lead them outside. “I am sure Jack is waiting for us, so let’s get going.” 

Emmett moved to fasten his boots back into place before taking to his feet and following behind his father urgently. It was rare Assassins ever had such a thing as ‘time off’ to enjoy themselves, so whenever it happened upon them, they were quick to try and take pleasure in the evening in any possible way. Since all three men weren’t seeing anybody, they took to one another for company whenever such a rare time off occurred in their schedule. 

Jack had been waiting out about the streets of Whitechapel where he usually was most active in terms of the Creed. He was relaxed while in wait, resting his back against a nearby brick wall with his head reclined backward and his foot resting against it as well with a cigar to keep his mind occupied and off of the cold, which dared to bite at him. Taking a long and desirable inhale of the tobacco, he blew the smoke upward out the corner of his mouth when he finally heard the two men approaching. 

“Shake your old man out of bed, did you finally, lad?” Jack asked in regards to Emmett probably having a hard time waking Jacob. 

“Actually, it was I who woke him,” Jacob clarified, shaking his head disapprovingly at the cigar Jack had in his possession. 

Emmett was equally unhappy with the appearance of the cigar Jack enjoyed in from time to time, causing him to wave the smoke in the air away from his nostrils. “Must you smoke that ghastly thing?” 

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Jack began as a tease, intentionally blowing smoke in Emmett’s face in the process of speaking, “I will put it out shortly.” 

The younger Assassin cringed and tried not to cough from the smell of it, but he was rarely ever exposed to such a thing as he hardly socialized about men who enjoyed in tobacco. Removing his top hat to fan it away from him, Emmett sighed irritably at Jack’s actions. 

“Let’s not waste the night,” Jacob insisted between them. “Otherwise, we’ll all be irritable come the morning.” 

It was then Jack dropped the cigar on the cold, wet ground and dug his foot into it to snuff it out. “Where to then? I merely chose the pub here because I figured it would suit your fancy.” 

“The Fight Club seems to have more of the action, I feel,” commented Emmett urgently. 

“Bunch of burly lads smacking about one another for a bit of a jolly time,” Jack scoffed, his blue eyes catching a pair of women saunter by with a rather flirtatious look to the men before going past them and into the nearby pub. “I feel here is more my type.” 

Emmett watched with Jacob at what Jack was eyeballing, turning then to his father to lightly smack him on the chest with the back of his hand as the two women appeared far too young for Jacob. “Women are at the Fight Club as well, Jack. There are some who enjoy in a bet or two.” 

“Food and drink there as well,” Jacob added in, nodding over his shoulder in the direction of it. “Would make the evening not quite as dull, I wager.” 

“Shall we then?” Emmett asked, hoping to have an agreement on the matter. 

The three men headed off to the nearby Fight Club, which still stood to that day but merely in different hands. There was talk of how Detective Frederick Abberline wanted to close them down given the shady business of them, but (as of that moment, anyways) there were still a few up and functioning. 

“What will you do when Detective Abberline asks you to close down this piece of work, Jacob?” Jack asked curiously, taking to his pint while Emmett refused the thought of alcohol. 

“Do as he asks,” Jacob murmured on the rim of his mug before drinking what he had keenly. “Freddy has been kind in keeping the Assassins a secret from society, so I am at his command.” 

“Like a good lapdog,” Jack smirked, throwing back his drink once more before noting that Emmett was intent to be without such and took to his food. “I’ve never known a bloke to be so prissy when it comes to a bloody pint.” 

Emmett shot Jack an annoyed look as he was picking apart the bread he had gotten for himself while Jacob watched the two closely to make sure a fight didn’t erupt between them as it always did from time to time when the two were in disagreement with one another. “I don’t fancy alcohol much—only tea,” Emmett explained with a bitter tone. 

When Jack laughed at the comment, Jacob grumbled the fellow Assassin’s name as a warning. “Jack…” When his student looked to him then, Jacob shook his head slowly with that scolding look in his aged eyes. “Emmett has his reasons, so leave him be.” 

Jack still scoffed, his eyes scanning the Fight Club at the women and men attending the scene. He was able to find a few women who were there of their own judgment to watch the fights and bet upon them. A sly grin spreading across Jack’s lips, he tapped his gloved hand upon his mug in thought before turning back to the Fryes there at the table they shared. “Think you got the bollocks to challenge me in the ring, _princess_?” he asked Emmett (who wasn’t looking to him at the moment and merely mulling over his food). When Emmett didn’t acknowledge him, Jack moved his foot to kick him lightly from under the table. 

“Blimey! I am listening to you, you daft berk!” Emmett growled, looking to Jack then with an annoyed sigh. “As for what I have the knackers to do, I don’t believe that’s one’s business now, is it?” 

“You weak little gobshi—.”

“Jack!” Jacob warned again, acting as a father figure between both men, it seemed, as the two were fighting like young boys.  When Jack halted his insult, Jacob still kept that disapproving glare upon his apprentice to make sure he didn’t speak again like that to his son. 

“Just because you want to flex your cock for women to see doesn’t mean you have to try and drag me into this game of yours,” Emmett insisted, ignoring his father’s harsh look, which soon passed to him as well as a hiss of his name. 

“Oh, is that so?” Jack asked, looking to Emmett out of the corner of his eyes as he was midway to taking another drink again from his pint. “And who is to say I’ll win in this?” 

“Shouldn’t you both be saving your strength?” Jacob insisted as he didn’t wish for this to escalate further. “That is what this evening off is for.” 

“Your boy and I can still have a bit of fun, Jacob,” said Jack, leaning forwards then on the table as a desire to see what Emmett would say. He could tell he was agitating the young Assassin, and it gave Jack a bit of delight to watch Emmett squirm at times for his own personal reasons. 

Emmett knew Jack wouldn’t ease up—it had always been like this since he was a small boy as Jack was like an older brother always picking on Emmett and teasing him at times since Jacob practically adopted Jack. “Bloody—just—fine!” It was there Emmett removed his Assassin gauntlet and slamming it down on the table before removing his other glove in the process to be prepared for the fight ahead. 

“Brilliant,” Jack smirked, finishing off his pint before taking to his feet. “I’ll let the brookie know.” 

When Jack left the table, Jacob grabbed at Emmett’s wrist to still his son. “Why are you doing this? Why are you letting him get to you as you are, Emmett?” 

“Someone has to shut his gob,” Emmett insisted, loosening his necktie to be done with it on the table next before removing his trench coat. 

Jacob wanted to tell his son not to fight Jack as Jack was a bit more skilled than Emmett was when it came to the battlefield, but he knew the two were always brawling with one another since Emmett could raise a fist against Jack when he was five. He knew there would be no stopping it unless Jacob wounded Emmett’s pride in the matter—something Jacob didn’t wish to do. 

It didn’t take long for Jack and Emmett to both end up in the ring together on opposite sides of the match. Both shirtless with their fists bound in wrappings to make the fight a bit easier on their hands, they waited for the brookie to announce the beginning of the fight before attacking one another. 

Jack went right for it without hesitation while Emmett waited for his opening on the opposite side of the ring. His legs slightly bent to expect the incoming force with his arms outstretched just a bit, Emmett reacted to the incoming punch Jack was about to unleash upon him by grabbing Jack’s fists and digging his heels into the mat below them. 

Granted, Jack was still quite bigger and stronger than Emmett, causing the younger Assassin to be pushed backward a bit until he exerted enough force to match Jack. “Not bad, lad,” Jack taunted, his face inches from Emmett as he grinned at his ‘younger brother’ being able to keep up with him for a moment. 

“Save your breath,” Emmett grumbled, urging Jack’s left hand downward and out of his own hold so that Emmett could move his then free hand to punch Jack across the face with as much force as he was able. 

The punch landed, causing Jack to pause in his motions and make Emmett wonder what the fellow Assassin was planning as it was rare that Jack ever ‘gave up’. If you landed a punch on him, he often made you regret it. Jack slowly moved his head to look at Emmett with a bit of blood trickling from the corner of his mouth, but that expression was a sort of smirk that made Emmett’s blood run cold. 

“My turn,” Jack hissed in delight, using his hand that Emmett had released to punch his brother under his chin and send Emmett’s head rolling backward from the vengeful force Jack exerted. 

“Emmett!” Jacob shouted from the sidelines as the crowds cheered over the bloody mess. Hurrying over to where Emmett’s body tumbled shortly after, he reached through the ring to try and get Emmett’s attention by banging on the ground. “Hey—get up!” 

Emmett could taste the coppery substance on his mouth as he struggled to register his father’s voice at that moment. When the fuzzy scene started to come into view, he saw Jack was soon upon him and about to stomp on his stomach to add insult to injury by just kicking Emmett around. Inhaling sharply at the idea of being overpowered again, Emmett reacted by pushing himself upright slightly to where he could move his leg against Jack’s feet to trip up the unsuspecting Assassin. 

Jack lost his balance then, giving Emmett enough time to find his energy in the madness to strike again. Pushing himself to his feet in urgency to pin Jack to the ring’s floor by straddling his stomach, Emmett’s bandaged fist was ready to attack only to stop as he kept his other hand aggressively on Jack’s throat as if to threaten to choke the life from him. When Emmett realized he was letting his anger get the better of him, his strength weakened much to Jack’s delight as he saw the fear overtake Emmett. 

“What’s wrong, Emmett?” Jack gasped out with a smug laugh to follow. 

Emmett hissed angrily at Jack at that moment as his fist remained stalled there in the air. “I know what you’re trying to do, you gobshite…” Emmett jeered angrily through his blooded teeth. “You just like to wind me up so that I will go barking mad!” 

Jack scoffed at the idea as if it were far from his mind. “You act like anger is such a rubbish emotion when it should fuel every punch you throw!” Without a warning, Jack reacted then and landed a harsh blow to Emmett’s cheek to knock the Assassin off of him and allow Jack back to his feet once Emmett’s weight was removed from him. 

Emmett’s head was reeling by this point as he was in pain from all of the punches Jack had landed, and it was there Jack went further to knock the boy upon the top of the head to make him nearly immobile on the floor. He hated letting Jack win again; especially in front of a larger crowd, but Emmett couldn’t let blind anger rule his emotions like he had witnessed such a powerful emotion do to both Jacob and Jack in Emmett’s youth. He wouldn’t fall prey to such a thing…Emmett refused, even if it meant humiliation… 

“Jack!” Jacob scolded, hoping the boy wouldn’t take things too far as he continued to watch from the sidelines. 

However, Jack was always intent to take things too far if he could get away with it—it was one of the reasons the Council deemed Jack unstable though Jacob appeared content to ignore it as he saw the man like a second son. As Jack loomed over Emmett, he pushed the heel of his boot against Emmett’s chest causing the younger Assassin to cry out in pain. 

Hearing Emmett yelling in agony caused Jacob’s ‘daddy mode’ to ignite and for him to ignore the rules and hurry into the ring at that moment to push Jack off of his son. “Enough, God dammit!” Jacob demanded, pushing Jack away from the wounded Emmett. Inches from Jack’s face, Jacob spat at him angrily, “You’ve done enough; now, let it rest!” 

Jack stared his mentor down long and hard as if refusing the idea before he cracked a fake, sideways laugh. “T’was all in good fun,” said Jack, raising his hands in defeat at the thought of continuing further and stepped back to let Jacob tend to Emmett as the match was declared over and Jack the winner. 

Kneeling down beside his son, Jacob cradled Emmett’s head to try and get him to focus. “Are you alright?” he asked, trying to get Emmett’s green eyes to focus. “Anything broken, son?” 

Emmett inhaled a shaky breath at his father’s question. “Just…my pride,” he wheezed jokingly, not wishing to talk about why he faltered as he did. 

Removing his own necktie, Jacob worked on cleaning the corners of Emmett’s blooded mouth before urging him to at least sit upright for a second. “You always let Jack knock your bollocks about…you can handle your own, son…” Jacob watched as Emmett closed his eyes then and slowly breathed in and out as if dreading that comment. “Why do you let him do it?” 

Wiping the rest of the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand, Emmett cleared his sinuses with a shrug to follow as though he had no answer. “It makes him feel better, and I don’t care either way,” Emmett lied pathetically, slowly taking to his feet with his father’s help. 

Jacob knew there was probably more to it than that, but he dared not push for an answer at the moment as he knew Emmett’s health was far more important.


End file.
